


My dear sweet nothing

by inmyrosegarden



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Sad!Louis, Take Me Home Tour, i seriously don't even know, larry stylinson - Freeform, sad!fic, sad!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:02:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyrosegarden/pseuds/inmyrosegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys have finally gotten a break from touring and Louis is excited to finally rest. Except now that he has free time, he can't seem to stop thinking about the boy he tried so hard to push away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My dear sweet nothing

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this took way too long for me to write. it's essentially a sad fic with a happy ending tho haha. hope you guys like it as it's filled with every emotion i have ever felt in my entire life lol ♡♡♡♡
> 
> title from "nothing arrived" by villagers
> 
> my endless thanks to the lovely [dizzy](https://twitter.com/hariboandlouigi) for being my britpick/beta! this couldn't have properly been finished without her!

***

_Will you still love me_  
 _When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_  
 _Will you still love me_  
 _When I've got nothing but my aching soul?_  
 _I know you will, I know you will_  
 _I know that you will_  
 _Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

_-Young & Beautiful; Lana Del Rey_

***

When Louis sees his Porsche sitting in the parking garage across from the main Syco building, he’s suddenly so happy that he could cry. He’s been waiting for a break for what feels like years.

He has never been so exhausted; the tour has taken absolutely everything out of him, including his ability to smile and to stay awake. No matter where he is, Louis feels like he’s got a permanent frown etched onto his face. No matter what he’s doing, Louis thinks he’s constantly in danger of falling asleep. His eyes are always drooping, and sometimes his mind feels numb.

He’s tired since he’s sleep deprived but at the same time, he’s tired because of something else.

It’s quite the cliché, but Louis is tired of pretending.

He feels confined; confined to the tour, to the music industry, to people who make him miserable. He has an image to keep up and it’s so  _disgusting_ , what they want him to be.

On the rare occasions when he lets himself think of all the shit they’ve put him through, all the hate they’ve made him get, all the douchebaggy things they’ve made him do, Louis is overcome with the urge to scream. He wants to punch every single one of them in the face, he wants to apologize to the few fans who they’ve made him give shit to, and—

He wants to apologize to Harry.

As soon as he starts thinking about Harry, Louis’ train of thought comes to a sudden stop. His breathing becomes uneven; his heart rate becomes jagged. Pained, almost.

That is exactly why he has trained himself to not think about Harry at all. Over the past two years, Louis has molded his mind so that his thoughts are divided behind two walls.

On one side of the wall--the evidently larger side--is everything Louis needs to live his life. His memories, his “brains” (no pun intended), his house number; you name it. But on the other side--the side that is inevitably smaller than the first--is everything that has to do with Harry Styles.

The problem is that the Harry side is heavily constrained. There is so much information, so many memories and conversations and looks and _feelings_ that it’s difficult for the wall to stay intact.

Sometimes, when Louis has to talk to Harry or say something about him, he’s forced to let his mind venture into that tiny corner. And every single time, he is flooded with an overwhelming feeling, one that he can neither place nor understand.

So he does what he knows best; he avoids the feeling (and Harry) like the plague (even though he can’t help it sometimes). There are moments when he just wants to sit with Harry and hear him talk; there are times he just wants to look at him and smile, to prove to the younger boy that he _cares_.

That day, when the five of them gather in front of their respective parked cars, Louis lets himself smile at Harry. And for a minute, it doesn’t matter that they’re standing the furthest away from each other.

Louis feels a wave of affection transmit from his heart to Harry’s and back, as Harry pretty much beams back at him.

“I’m so glad t’ be goin’ home,” Niall says right before he yawns. “Tired as fuck.”

“Me too,” Liam groans, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn smiles down at Liam and intertwines their fingers between their bodies so that they’re hidden from the view of anyone but the boys. Louis thinks the scene should make him smile, but. There’s something coiling in the pit of his stomach.

( _Something quite like jealousy,_ is what Louis’ conscience tells him. He proceeds to ignore that thought, though.)

“Any plans?” Louis asks the group, smiling forcedly as he quickly shakes his head like he is trying to rid himself of the thoughts he was having.

“Sleep,” Niall groans.

“Same here,” Liam choruses. “’m going to Bradford with Zayn.”

Louis tries his best to refrain from rolling his eyes. He instead nods in Harry’s direction and the younger boy clears his throat.

Harry smiles faintly. “Holmes Chapel for me. Just wanna see Gem and mum.”

Louis nods, kicking out his foot and toeing the pavement as a distraction.

“What about you, Lou?” Zayn asks. He sounds curious and possibly worried, but Louis chooses to disregard that completely.

Not wanting to worry or upset his friends, Louis smiles. He tries for something bright and not tight-lipped but that’s kind of difficult, seeing as he’s running on two hours of sleep. “Just relaxing in London, catching up on sleep as well,” Louis adds finally, attempting at sounding nonchalant.

“Not gonna go to Donny?” Liam asks, eyebrows raised and surprise evident in his tone of voice.

“Nah,” Louis shakes his head. Sweeping his fringe to the side he explains, “Mum and the girls are going to the Bahamas with Dan and I don’t really see it fitting being in the house by m’self, y’know?”

Harry nods and clears his throat. “Well at least you’ll be well-rested for the next tour.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. Because he was only reminiscing about the past a few moments ago, he can’t help but feel a pang of utter sadness somewhere deep inside his heart. He remembers a time when Harry would’ve invited him over instantaneously; heck, he remembers that sometimes, he would make his situation seem sadder than it was so Harry would invite him over.

He used to really love spending time with Harry. Those were the days that Harry loved being around him too.

Louis swallows thickly. “Well, you boys have long journeys ahead of you, so. I’ll let you get a head start, yeah? See you all in a week.” He manages a small smile and pats Niall on the back once.

Louis walks over to his car and unlocks it as the boys say their goodbyes to him and the others. He doesn’t wait a minute in the car, starting it right as he gets in and driving away soon after.

He waves to his friends as he leaves the parking garage and if his gaze lingers on Harry for a little longer than the rest of them, well.

He tries not to make note of it.

***

That night, Louis falls asleep as soon as head hits his pillow. He’s still fully clothed and this is the first time in his life that he doesn’t _care_ because he’s just so _tired._

When he wakes up at 10:03 the next morning, he groans to himself and wiggles his clothes off while still lying in bed. It’s like every inch of his body is on fire and it hurts him even to open his eyes. Ignoring his growling stomach, Louis sighs before turning over onto his belly—a feat that’s meant to shut his hunger up but really, it doesn’t—and sleeping for the rest of the day.

Louis _really_ wakes up at 7:30 pm.

The first thing he notices is how incredibly _fresh_ he feels. Then, when the hunger pains kick in, Louis finds himself reaching over to his night stand in the dark. He throws off some clutter and feels around for the square of his iPhone and finally, when he feels the familiar device in his hands, Louis is so happy he could applaud.

(He disregards the fact that turning the light on would’ve turned the obstacle into a simple task.)

Clearing his throat, Louis dials his local Nandos and places an order for a spicy chicken platter with mash and garlic bread. Then, after mentally noting the total he will have to pay the delivery guy, Louis rolls out of bed and tiptoes to his en-suite bathroom.

The floorboards are creaky under his feet and that, to Louis, is a bit unsettling. He’s never been one for being alone, especially since he grew up living with four little sisters. Now, the echoing of the noisy floorboards in his flat reminds Louis of the fact that he has no one. His bandmates have lives of their own, his family can have fun without him, and his ex-girlfriend has found someone else.

As the scalding hot water hits Louis’ back, he realizes with a jolt that there’s only one person that he _truly_ misses.

He remembers that barely a year ago, he and his best mate shared this very flat. A corner couldn’t be turned without the sound of laughter floating into one’s ear. A moment couldn’t be spent without one feeling the affection that lingered in the air around the flat. It was painfully obvious how much the two boys cared for each other.

Now, however, as Louis turns the shower off and wipes down his body with a towel, enveloped in silence once more, he can’t help but feel as if his flat is too big, too quiet. He wants desperately to be around someone so he doesn’t feel so alone.

He’s snapped out of his trance when the doorbell rings. Louis sighs deeply and pads over to the hallway, reaching for his wallet that is sitting on the telephone table and then opening the door.

After paying the delivery guy and handing him a tip as well, Louis closes the door and walks into the dark living room with his paper bag full of food.

It’s dark and Louis turns on the TV, putting the volume up all the way in order to get rid of the pitiful silence.

 _Sherlock_ is on. Seeing John and Sherlock's friendship kind of makes Louis feel worse than he already does. There was a time when he had a friend like that. But now he’s gone and in his wake, all that is left are feelings of guilt and sadness in Louis' heart.  
  
He's just about finishing his meal when an idea crosses his mind. After playing his thoughts over, he hears a voice in the back of his mind tell him, _this is stupid. What if you're turned down? What if he doesn't_ want _you there with him?_  
  
Louis replies back to that annoying voice with a shaky smile. "And what if he does?" he says to no one but himself.  
  
He takes the silence in both the show and the house as an omen to go forth with the plan. In the morning, of course.  
  
***

The drive to Holmes Chapel feels shorter to Louis than from all the times he’s visited before. The music on Top40 just doesn’t  _feel_ right as he drives, so he’s left with having to sit in silence for the majority of the ride.

On the open road, with greenery surrounding him and absolutely no hint of civilization or sound (apart from the slight murmur of the car driving on the road), Louis realizes the intensity of what he’s about to do.

There was never really a time where he decided to stop talking to Harry.

He remembers lying awake in bed one night while on Twitter, sifting through the hundreds of tweets he was receiving in minutes. While scrolling through his mentions on his phone, Louis had been surprised to see that more than half of them were from fans asking about him and Harry. Or their “relationship,” to be more exact. The fact that people who he didn’t even know—people who, in reality, didn’t even know  _him_ —were assuming things about his relationship with his best mate unnerved Louis. More than he wished it would.

He and Harry were always two lads who enjoyed a nice, warm cuddle; nothing more. At least, that’s what they would  _say_ to other people when they were asked about their tendency to touch at all times. Moreover, they were the _best_ of friends; they had oodles in common and genuinely enjoyed spending time together. Sure, there were sometimes when Louis would think,  _maybe my best mate shouldn’t look at me with_ so  _much admiration,_ and there were other times where he’d guiltily conclude,  _maybe I shouldn’t get so many butterflies in my tummy when I’m alone with my best mate_ , but. Those were things for him and Harry to go through. If there was something more between them (which, Louis thought, could never be the case) and  _if_ Harry also experienced butterflies in his stomach when Louis was around, then that was for  _them_ and them only to discuss, to think.

It was nobody’s business but their own to assume that they had certain  _feelings_ for each other.

It was in that moment in bed--a little over a year ago to the day that Louis found himself driving to Harry’s house—that Louis realized how unnerving it was to have the world  _watch_ him and speculate about his relationship. His  _romantic_ and  _nonexistent_ relationship with his best mate.

It put him off, seeing those tweets. He felt like there was a point when things were no longer funny but rather, just plain intimidating. He felt as if people liked him only because of the relationship he had with Harry and that hurt him. He didn’t want to be known for who his friends were; he wanted to be known for being a good singer and a good human being.

There was so much pressure on him.  _Should I approach Harry? Should Harry and I be in a public relationship to please the fans?_ At that point, Louis and Harry were still new to the whole “international superstars” thing; and Louis did not want to put the careers of his four best mates on the line.

So he did what was rational. Or rather, what he  _thought_ was rational at the time. He slowly stopped being so touchy-feely with Harry; he stopped being seen outside with Harry; he stopped  _living_ with Harry. He got a girlfriend—a pretty brunette who Harry’s friend introduced him to. She was—sweet. She liked shopping and eating out and she didn’t really mind what the media said, so. He took a chance with her. He found out their relationship wasn’t going to work in the long run and in the end, they ended up breaking up, but. Having a girlfriend was a good method of distracting him from Harry (and those feelings for Harry that were threatening to escape his throat).

So, yeah; Harry and he kind of fizzled out in the end. They were meant to remain friends, Louis is sure of that now, but before—during the second Up All Night Tour when they would only talk and banter on stage, or even during the recording process of Take Me Home—Louis had felt as if taking a break from all that is Harry Styles would do him good.

(He realizes now that it didn’t. Not at all.)

Louis’ anxiety level has probably quadrupled by the time he’s reached Harry’s house. He takes his Porsches’ keys from the ignition with trembling fingers and, with a shuddering deep breath that feels as though it wracks through his ribs, Louis clambers out of his car and slowly walks towards the front door.

It feels weird, standing on Harry’s porch in Holmes Chapel. It’s been a little over a year since he last visited and the sight of the home makes Louis’ heart bubble with anticipation. He’ll get to spend some time with not only Harry, but with Anne, who, if he’s being honest, has been like a second mother to him ever since he and Harry met on The X Factor.

Louis presses the doorbell gently, hearing it echo inside the house. He swallows thickly as he waits for someone to come and open the door for him.

He waits a couple of minutes and, when there’s still no answer, he reaches out to ring the bell again. Just before he gets his hands on the button, the door suddenly swoops open.

Before Louis knows it, Harry’s standing right there in front of him. Their eyes meet and Louis can see Harry looking back at him with utter confusion written in his features.

“Louis?” Harry asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hi,” Louis replies awkwardly. “I, uh. Surprise?”

Harry blinks and then, in seconds, his expression changes from confused to frightened. “Ohmygod is everything alright?”

Louis clears his throat and nods vigorously. “Yeah yeah, everything’s cool. Just, y’know. Wanted to pop in for a visit?”

Harry looks skeptical. “Are you sure everything’s okay? I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s lovely that you’re here and everything but just—“ he bites his lip. “Well, this is quite unexpected.”

Louis chokes out a laugh. “Yeah, hey. I. If you’re busy or whatever I can go. I didn’t even realize how dumb it was of me to drop in without letting you know.”

Harry’s eyes pop open and he shakes his head. “Nonono, I’m not telling you to go! Lou, come in, mate. I was just saying I was surprised, is all.”

Louis grimaces. "Only if you're sure?"  
  
Harry rolls his eyes and just opens the door more.  
  
With a sigh, Louis enters Harry's house and is met with a whiff of something that smells absolutely delicious. He's also met with a cat rubbing up on his legs.  
  
"Oh hello," Louis coos as he drops to his knees to stroke Dusty. "D'you remember me, then?"  
  
Dusty purrs in response.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes," Louis laughs. He looks up at Harry, who's still looking at him curiously. Getting up on his feet, Louis goes to stand in front of Harry. "You look like a grumpy puss," he says while looking into Harry's eyes. All he can see in them is confusion.  
  
Harry shakes his head once, as if to knock himself out of a trance. "I'm really not mad," he chuckles. "Just a bit--baffled, I guess?"  
  
"And what's got your knickers in a twist, then?"  
  
"You've not--you've not talked to me for _months_ and now you're standing in my mum's hallway," Harry states bluntly. His brows are knitted together in confusion and Louis can't help but smile sadly back at him.  
  
He turns on his heel and heads into the living room. It looks the same way it did when Louis visited for the last time months ago. He thinks it's kind of funny that he feels more at home in Harry's mum's house than he does in his old flat.  
  
Walking over to the mantel piece above the fireplace, the one with all the family pictures, Louis picks out one frame that he loves the best.  
  
It holds a picture of him and Harry standing outside the bathrooms where they first met. Their eyes are shining and their sides are pressed flush against each other, arms intertwined behind their backs. Of course, that little detail can't be seen in the picture but Louis can remember that moment clearly. He can remember feeling as though the stars had aligned, the first time he looked into Harry's eyes. He can remember feeling as though his heart was on fire.  
  
Louis clears his throat and picks up the frame. He then takes it over to Harry and holds it out so he can see what Louis had been examining so closely moments ago.  
  
It's as if Harry's breath catches when he looks at the picture.  
  
"I want this back," Louis chokes out. He can feel the tears threatening to brim over as he continues to look at the boy whom he loved and lost in such a short time frame. "I want our friendship back. I want to apologize for the way I acted, Hazza. You didn't deserve the way I treated you so horribly and I'm really just so sorry that I put you through any of that." Louis can feel a tear slip from his eye and roll down his cheek. It's warm and it almost stings his cold skin when it falls.  
  
Harry presses a finger to the corner of his eye. "It's--I." He takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling for a moment, cheeks red and eyes wet. He looks back at Louis then, and lets out a heartbroken laugh that resembles a sob. "C'mere," Harry whimpers.  
  
Louis bounds over to Harry and clambers into his arms. They stand there like fools, crying softly and taking shuddering breaths against each other's shoulders. "I'm sorry," Louis says into Harry's neck. He presses a light kiss there and feels Harry's body shudder against him. "I was such an idiot, Harry."  
  
Harry holds Louis tighter as he cries. "It's okay, Lou. Really. Let's put it behind us, yeah?"  
  
Louis pulls away a bit and looks up into Harry's eyes. They're so close together that Louis can feel Harry's warm breaths on his face. "I was scared of what people said about us," Louis admits, sniffling. "I didn't want anyone to hurt you and I didn't like that people thought they owned us."  
  
Harry's brows furrow together again. "You don't have to protect me anymore, Lou," Harry smiles. "I'm not a little kid anymore."  
  
Louis laughs at that, managing to smoothly take a step back in the process. He wipes at his eyes and he lets his eyes skim over Harry's body as Harry watches him curiously. "Since when did you get so big, hm? You used to be _smaller_ than me! And now you've become a fucking _yeti_!"  
  
Harry cackles and runs a hand down his face. "A _yeti_!? Where did you come up with _that_!?"  
  
Louis smiles coyly. "Haven't you heard? It's what all the fans call you."  
  
Harry rolls his eyes and grabs Louis' arm, tugging him towards himself again. "I think I'm obligated to serve you tea. If my mum found out you were here and I never fed you, she'd have a fit."  
  
"Speaking of your mum," Louis starts as the two amble over to the kitchen. "Where _is_ the lovely Anne?"  
  
Harry fills the kettle up with water, putting it on the stove which he puts on high. He's biting his lip through the process and when he turns around to look at Louis, his cheeks are red.  
  
"Well," Harry drags out. "You see, mum and Robin and Gemma and her boyfriend are gone on holiday to Australia."  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really."  
  
"So--why're you here by yourself?"  
  
Harry opens the oven and pulls out a tray of chocolate chip cookies. He sighs and sets them on the counter in front of Louis. "I just wanted to--to get away from everyone, y'know?"  
  
Louis feels guilty all of a sudden. He smiles sheepishly and says, "I'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry."  
  
Harry shakes his head. "No you're fine. I'd actually quite like it if you stayed, to be honest. We should catch up."  
  
Louis worries his lip between his teeth. "You sure?"  
  
Harry smiles genuinely. "'course I am." Then, he walks over to a cupboard and pulls out two mugs with bears on them.  
  
Louis laughs. "You remembered my favorite mugs!"  
  
Harry smiles as he makes their tea. "How could I forget? You would refuse to have tea if it weren't in that cup."  
  
Louis giggles and helps himself to a cookie. "Mmm," he moans. "These are really good."  
  
Harry beams at him as he places Louis' cuppa in front of him. "Thanks, mate. Shall we have tea in the living room?"  
  
Louis smiles back at Harry. "We shall."  
  
The boys have their tea and cookies in silence while watching a re-run of _Skins_ on TV.  When the episode is almost over, Harry starts talking.  
  
"I think I'm just tired of everyone always watching me and saying shitty things about me," Harry says sadly. "That's why I left London and came here, even though my family was away. I can't sleep in London, Lou."  
  
Louis frowns and moves closer to Harry, putting a hand on his knee. "Why's that, love?"  
  
Harry sighs. "I can't bear to be alone there. It's like I have no one, when all's said and done. I always come to home to an empty house and there's no one I can talk to. No one that understands that the shit everyone says about me isn't true."  
  
Louis shakes his head. "Harry, don't be daft. Everyone knows that the media is filled with pathetic cunts that make lies about people that are as sweet as you. Everyone that matters knows the truth, yeah?"  
  
Harry swallows thickly and places his mug on the coffee table beside him. "I suppose," he sighs. Then, "I'm glad you're here, though. At least now I know that you'll always be here for me."  
  
He sounds so unsure when he says it and Louis just wants to punch himself in the face. How could he let himself act in a way that made Harry doubt his loyalty to him?  
  
"I'm always here for you," Louis affirms. "And the other boys are too."  
  
Harry smiles softly. "I think it's just nice to hear that sometimes."  
  
"I know what you mean."  
  
Harry yawns and stretches his arms above his head. Louis can see a sliver of his skin as his shirt rides up and the pale skin with its dark contrasting tattoos makes the heat pool in Louis' stomach.  
  
"I should get to bed," Harry says. "Hopefully I'll finally be able to get a good night's sleep." Then, after he gets up, Harry's eyes light up with mirth. He snorts, "Okay excuse my idiocy. You can sleep in the guest bed room. C'mon."  
  
"You go on up. I need to grab a few things from my car."

Harry nods at him absentmindedly and begins his trek up the stairs, while Louis hops off the sofa and unlocks the front door. He opens it carefully, only a little bit so he can peek through, to check if there’re any fans or paparazzi outside. When he sees that the coast is indeed clear, he walks out of the warm house and into the chilly almost-autumn air, barefoot.

Louis unlocks his Porsche and grabs his bag from the back seat. When he’s closing the door, he sees a light turn on from somewhere above him. He looks up and can see Harry standing in front of the window, bustling about the room, since the curtains haven’t yet been drawn.

It all feels very homey, Louis thinks for the second time that day. It’s funny how Harry’s presence can make him feel so comfortable.

After he locks his car, Louis heads back inside. His heart begins racing, for some reason unbeknownst to him, as he locks the door. Maybe then is the first time he realizes the fact that he and Harry are in the house _alone._

With a shaky breath, Louis heads up the stairs and over to the guest bedroom that he remembers. Harry’s in there, just sitting on the bed. Louis smiles at him as he walks over to the window and draws the curtains.

“ _Sooo_ ,” Louis says cheekily.

Harry laughs. “Sooo.”

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning?” Louis asks as he drops his bag on the bed next to Harry. He’s looking for his pajamas when Harry suddenly grabs his wrist. Quirking an eyebrow, Louis turns to look at the younger boy. “Yes?”

“Well, I just—“ Harry begins nervously, pulling his hand away from Louis’ wrist. “I’m glad you’re here, Lou. Really.”

Louis swallows thickly, and he notices that Harry tracks the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Yeah, I. I’m glad I’m here too.”

Harry licks his lips and stands up then, fidgeting with his hands. Louis smiles fondly at his awkwardness and Harry laughs. “Well, you know where everything is if you need something. And the bathroom’s all yours. So, um. G’night, Lou,” Harry says as he makes his way over to the door.

Louis keeps smiling. “Night, Harry.”

With that, Harry’s gone. Louis hears the soft click of the door when Harry closes it and he goes back to searching for his pajamas in his bag. Finally, when he finds them, he takes his wash bag and his clothes to the bathroom across the hall.

Going through his night routine quickly, Louis emerges from the bathroom only five minutes later. Before he can head back to his room, however, something pulls Louis to Harry’s bedroom door.

Louis presses his ear against the cool door and listens.

It’s quiet. Louis remembers when he first came down to visit Harry after the X Factor, and he remembers how back then, it was anything but quiet.

_He and Harry had all but begged Anne to let Louis stay in Harry’s room that night. Anne was hesitant at first. She told Harry, “Why would you rather your guest stay on the hard ground of your bedroom than the soft guest bed?”_

_Harry had pouted at that, and Louis laughed and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, Anne,” he said, smiling. “I prefer hard beds to soft ones anyway.”_

_Anne had simply rolled her eyes while smiling at their antics nonetheless.  She gave Louis a sleeping bag but as soon as she shut the door, Louis forgot about it. Throwing it on the ground somewhere behind him, Louis hopped into the bed next to Harry._

_Harry cuddled into his chest and Louis pressed his chin onto Harry’s incredibly soft curls._

_“I’ve never had a friend like you,” Harry said quietly into the night like a confession. “I’ve never felt this happy to be around someone,” he giggled._

_“Oh you sap,” Louis said fondly whilst rolling his eyes even though Harry couldn’t see him. He petted Harry’s curls, moving his fingers through the soft locks, and Harry mewled, snuggling closer._

_When Harry’s breathing evened out, Louis placed a kiss to Harry’s curls._

_“I think I’m in love with you,” Louis said eventually. And when the words left his lips, Louis realized just how true they were._

He’s pretty sure that he’s still in love with his best mate, is the thing. Now, he notices that his hand is on the doorknob as that particular thought makes him snap out of the trance. His heart is in his throat, stuttering at an impossibly quick speed, and his breathing is coming out in fast, ragged puffs. There’s something on the other side of this wall between them that’s pulling Louis in, reeling him closer. And when Louis realizes that that _something_ is Harry, he pulls his hand off of the doorknob and scurries back into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Harry makes him want to disregard his inhibitions. He doesn’t for the life of him know whether or not that’s a good thing.

***

The morning comes too quickly for Louis’ liking. Considering his mini freak out the night before, Louis had a pretty good night’s sleep. Even so, as he makes his way into the kitchen at 10 am, Louis can’t help but feel a little nervous to see Harry.

His heart stutters when he sees Harry standing at the stove flipping pancakes. Apart from that, last night’s conclusion doesn’t really haunt him too much as he makes his way over to a bar stool.

“Hello,” he says as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair.

Harry turns around, smiling. “Hiii.”

“How did you sleep then?”

Harry nods, still smiling. “Pretty well, actually. You?”

“Same,” Louis smiles.

Harry brings over the pancakes a little while later and the two chat aimlessly for a while, about anything and everything that comes to mind. The feeling is nice, actually. Louis has missed being able to talk to Harry. He finds that just hearing the younger boy’s voice gives him comfort.

After breakfast, the two head upstairs to shower and change. They spend the afternoon watching _The Great Gatsby_ on TV while sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. That part is weird, actually, since they would practically sit on top of each other while watching films before. It’s nice, nevertheless, being in Harry’s company. No matter how far apart they are.

When the closing credits roll around, Harry smiles mischievously and turns off the TV.

“C’mon,” Harry says, smiling as he reaches out a hand to help Louis.

Rolling his eyes, Louis grabs Harry’s hand and pulls himself up. “Are we going swimming?” Louis asks as he follows Harry to the glass garden door.

Harry shakes his head and unlocks the door. “Nope.” Without looking at Louis and with a faint smile on his lips, he explains, “Even better. We’re going trampoline-ing!”

When Harry opens the sliding door and steps out, Louis shivers at the feeling of the chilly autumn air on his face. “First off, I’m fairly certain that isn’t a word.”

Harry pouts. “Well now it is.”

Louis pointedly ignores him. “Second, dear Hazza, you are _such_ a child.”

Harry furrows his brow and crosses his arms over his chest. “No one’s forcing you to play, y’know,” he mumbles. He starts walking further into the back garden, past the pool that looks out of place outside on a windy, cloudy day.

Louis sighs. “I was only kidding,” he calls after Harry, who is now walking behind the garden shed.

When Louis realizes that Harry won’t be coming back for him any time soon, he makes a whining sound under his breath like a whining puppy. With a resigned shake of his head, he starts jogging in the direction that he saw Harry head in.

Behind the shed, Louis notices, is an opening in the fence that outlines Harry’s back garden. Louis frowns; Harry could’ve only gone through it. Taking a deep breath, Louis peaks through the little opening, being especially careful so that he didn’t scratch his head on the wood surrounding the hole.

Green. Green is everything Louis sees. Green grass, green hills, green trees. When he peers closely, Louis can also see Harry standing further out into the field, next to, what he assumes, is the trampoline.

Louis squeezes through the little opening in the fence, closing his eyes as he walks through.

He feels like he’s in another world when he’s standing on the other side.

Louis looks around with big eyes full of wonder because he’d never realized how _beautiful_ this place is. Every time before this trip, when he had come down to Holmes Chapel, he and Harry—and when they’d come down too, the other three boys as well—would stay cooped up inside the bungalow, catching up on sleep and talking. And when they’d get squeamish and tired of breathing the same air as each other, they’d just walk two feet to the pool outside. But it was sad—unfortunate, really—that they’d never taken the time to discover the magic of the town where Harry grew up.

It really was breathtaking; Harry never gave it enough credit.

By the time Louis snaps out of his reverie, he has reached the trampoline. It’s big and round and looks worn out by the feet of dozens of kids that have no doubt used it every summer.

Harry has taken a seat in the grass. He’s pulling off his ratty old brown suede shoes and Louis can’t help but bite back a smile. In the September wind, Harry’s hair seems to dance eloquently. Since the rain clouds are almost a light grey in the sky, every color around the two boys seems to look more vibrant. The green of the grass is almost bright; the blue of the trampoline is popping; the yellow of the daisies seems to shine. Harry’s milky skin seems almost paler; it contrasts with the green grass around him so well, making him stand out in the world.

He always stands out.

Harry doesn’t comment about the way Louis has been staring at him for a while, even though Louis is fairly certain Harry can see him in his periphery. Before Louis can comment however, Harry is standing up, long legs stretching on forever.

“Well,” he grins, finally looking over at Louis. “Are you gonna join me or what?”

Louis shrugs, slipping out of his Top-Siders. In the meantime, Harry climbs up onto the trampoline and starts jumping steady, small jumps.

It’s not one of those trampolines that have netting surrounding it. This one, instead, is still tall but when Louis carefully climbs up onto it and stands, he doesn’t feel like a caged bird.

He feels as if when he jumps as high as he can, he can touch the sky; maybe even fly through the clouds.

(What would only make that situation better is the fact that he’d be discovering a new world with Harry by his side.)

 As the adrenaline suddenly begins coursing through his veins, Louis grins devilishly as Harry. “First one to fall has to carry the other back home!”

Harry pouts. “That’s not fair! You know I have terrible balance!”

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “Well then,” he shouts as he starts jumping, first making teeny jumps but soon stretching his arms as high as he can and then, when he hits the trampoline again, bending his knees in a way that causes him to be propelled upwards. “Try your best, Hazhead!”

Harry’s still jumping a little--a bit away from Louis though, so Louis’ momentum and speed doesn’t knock him over. He finally shakes his head, small smile playing on his lips, before he too starts jumping as high as he can.

“I’m,” Harry begins, out of breath. “Going—Higher—Than—You,” he says each word every time his feet hit the surface of the trampoline.

Louis makes a face and sticks out his tongue, which causes Harry to burst into a cackle. Louis hasn’t heard that laugh in so long—maybe he last heard it _before_ all the drama—and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

However, the new air that he seems to be breathing in also appears to be quite strong. Harry’s curls are bouncing and his smile is absolutely humongous; instead of that being an incentive for Louis to go higher and higher, he’s left breathless, heart stuttering.

Louis feels his eyes pool with tears and he suddenly has to turn away from Harry. He’s too overwhelmed.

After taking a deep breath—which proves to be quite hard as he’s jumping—, Louis turns back to Harry and gives him his brightest smile. Harry continues to beam back, the apples of his cheeks slightly pinking. Louis doesn’t know whether to attribute it to the exercise that they’re doing or to the positively smitten smile he just threw at the younger boy, so he doesn’t.

He keeps jumping, all the while making faces at Harry because he understands that now that he’s heard Harry’s beautiful giggles, he won’t be able to stop himself from wanting to cause them. He fleetingly remembers a time when wanting to make Harry laugh was all that he could think about, all that he wanted. He remembers the X Factor and sometime after that when, every second of every day, he had Harry Styles on his mind.

He doesn’t like to think about the fact that he made himself change. He doesn’t like to think about the fact that he never wanted to.

Finally, after minutes of jumping— _of being suspended in the sky with Harry—_ Harry trips over his own feet and goes tumbling down on the surface of the trampoline. He’s giggling though, so Louis assumes that he’s not at all hurt which comforts him because—well because, if Harry’s laughing, it means he enjoyed himself; that he enjoyed the time he spent with Louis.

Louis comes to a stop then too, but gradually; slowly and gracefully, unlike Harry.

Harry is lying with his limbs splayed out on the trampoline. He’s got a small smile on his face as he looks up into the sky, really _looks,_ and he’s so _so_ beautiful that Louis’ left momentarily stunned. Before Harry can realize that he’s being starred at again though, Louis clears his throat and lies down next to the younger boy, spreading out his own legs and looking up into the sky.

“When I was fifteen,” Harry begins suddenly after minutes in absolute silence. “I came out to my friends at school and—and some of the guys were douchebags about it.” His voice is thick with emotion, and Louis thinks he can feel it in his bones. He is, nevertheless, shocked at Harry’s statement; he had thought that he’d _known_ his friend’s coming out story, but. Apparently, he doesn’t. He also doesn’t think he should interrupt this moment to express his confusion to Harry. Louis gulps suddenly and turns his face so that he’s looking up at Harry, who is staring up at the clouds while his eyebrows are furrowed; almost as if he’s looking for something.

Eventually Harry takes a deep breath and continues. “So like, a couple of them didn’t talk to me for a week. And every day after school I’d come back here and just—just _jump.”_ Harry sighs and looks at Louis straight in the eye. “It made me feel _free_ ; like I was tied to nothing on the Earth; like nothing was holding me back.”

Harry turns back to face the sky while Louis swallows thickly, tears stinging at his eyes. Harry looks so sad, so vulnerable; he wishes he had been there to help Harry when he was fifteen. He wishes he could make all of Harry’s pain—all of his worries—disappear.

It’s silent; so eerily silent. The birds have stopped chirping, stopped warning that rain is about to come. The air is thick with—not only humidity—but some sort of _tension_. Louis feels like his lungs are tied up, as he can barely breathe. Harry’s words are breaking him more than he ever thought anyone’s could.

Harry chuckles then. But it’s not the laugh that Louis likes; it’s scary; it’s empty; it’s utterly broken.

“You would think that coming out of the closet would be great, yeah? You would never expect yourself to be pushed right back in.” He sighs. “You would never expect to have to come out all over again, in front of an audience, much less. Especially since it was so shit the first time around.”

Louis gulps and moves so that he’s snuggling right up next to Harry. He puts his head on Harry’s chest and throws his arm around Harry’s torso.

“Is that why you came home, Harry?” Louis asks. He can feel his own voice in Harry’s chest; he can feel the way Harry’s heart rate accelerates in panic.

Harry does not reply.

“Are you thinking of coming out?”

Harry’s silent, apart from his heavy breathing.

Louis rubs his hand along Harry’s side. “Well, this time you’ll have four boys behind you who love you very much. We’re not going to let anyone touch a hair on your head.”

Harry bends his head down to kiss Louis’ hair. “You’re really sweet sometimes, y’know?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t go ‘round blabbing about this to anyone, y’hear? I have a reputation to keep up.”

“What, the reputation of being an asshole?”

Louis elbows Harry in the ribs.

“Ouch! Sorry…”

Louis giggles. “Modest are a bag of shit, aren’t they?"

Harry hums in response. “They really are.”

Soon after, Harry starts gently running his fingers through Louis’ hair. It’s quiet all around, except for the sound of their breathing and the wind rustling in the trees. The tension has dissipated between them.

Until—

“Hey, Lou?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Erm,” Harry begins, stuttering a bit. “Why do you—why do you hate ‘Larry Stylinson’ so much?”

Louis stops breathing. He feels Harry’s heartbeat increase under his cheek again.“I just—“ he begins.

But before Louis can say anything else, Harry is interrupting him. “Sometimes, I—well, I used to—on the X Factor I would—“

“For god’s sake, Harry. Spit it out,” Louis mumbles, feeling queasy.

“I used to think we would be good together, you and I,” Harry rushes out. Louis’ never heard him speak so quickly before. Harry’s words take him by surprise. “I mean, didn’t everybody?”

Louis moves so that he can look Harry in the eyes, see the flush on Harry’s cheeks. “I—I mean. Sometimes,” Louis starts shakily. “Sometimes I feel like maybe we’re—” Louis is cut off by the sound of thunder in the distance. It’s loud and echoes for what seems like ages, and before Louis can continue, rain starts falling down on him and Harry in sheets.

“Shit, Lou!” Harry squeaks. “Let’s go!”

Louis has never been more grateful for rain in his life. He nods at Harry and they both quickly shove on their shoes--not caring for laces or proper fitting—before Harry holds out a hand for Louis.

Louis bites his lip and grabs Harry’s hand before he can think about what he’s doing. They both take off sprinting, Louis lagging behind Harry since he has shorter legs.

When they finally reach the bungalow, Harry shoves open the glass door and pulls Louis inside with him.

They’re both breathing unevenly, standing side by side as they listen to the booming thunder and watch the bright lightning. The rain seems to come down faster and faster and it’s all _overwhelming_ for Louis. What he was about to say, what he has just heard come out of Harry’s mouth.

“Harry,” he croaks. “I’m just gonna—I’m gonna head into the shower.”

Harry nods but doesn’t look at Louis. His eyes are focused on the rain falling outside but the look in his eye tells Louis that his brain is a million miles away.

Before Louis can do anything reckless, he leaves the living room in his squeaking shoes.

He squeaks all the way to the bathroom down the hall and silently strips his sopping clothes as he listens to the uneven beat of his heart.

He doesn’t let himself cry until the he’s standing under the spray of the too-hot water.

***

After his shower, Louis stands around in the guest room for a bit, searching for something to do. He’s nervous to face Harry after their talk outside and he doesn’t really know what he could say to ease the heartache.

Thankfully though, he doesn’t have to make the first move. Harry appears at the door, knocking on the door frame to get Louis’ attention. “Hey, Lou?”

Louis turns to face Harry. “Yeah, mate?”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for cooking, so. Was wondering if you’d like to go get pizza?” He looks hopeful, but at the same time his expression is a bit reproachful. He’s acting like he’s carefully talking to a deer that could run away instantly if the wrong move is made.

Louis clears his throat. “Um yeah—that’d. That would be lovely, sure. Let’s go.”

Harry lets out a sigh of relief. “Great. We can take my car since people ‘round here are used to it.”

Louis laughs and picks up his cagoule. “Lead the way.”

Harry drives them into town which is just like Louis remembers it. It’s very quaint and small compared to Doncaster. Everyone seems to be walking around with dates, even the really old people. Louis giggles to himself and lets out an _aww_ when he notices a couple who seem to be in their 90s. He points them out to a curious Harry who sighs and looks at them dreamily, saying, “I wish I had a love like that. They look interested even though they’re all wrinkly.”

At that point they’ve come to a stop in front of a small pizza place. “Oooh,” Louis says, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Best pizza I’ve ever had,” Harry tells him. “And I’ve already placed our order.”

“Good because I’m starving,” Louis says, shivering as he steps into the cool air. He hugs his cagoule closer to his body as the shirt he’s wearing underneath is rather thin and flimsy.

Harry leads the way into the restaurant and a pretty waitress with blonde hair and bright blue eyes takes them to their table near the back, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Can I get you anything to start? Wine, breadsticks maybe?”

Harry smiles at her politely. “I’ll have a coke and he’ll have—“

“The same,” Louis finishes, smiling too.

“Great,” the girl smiles. “Have you decided on a pizza yet?”

“Actually, I’ve already ordered. It should be ready? It’s for Harry Styles.”

The girl laughs. “I figured. I’ll check it out for you and come back with your drinks. I’m Emile if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Louis and Harry both chorus. Then, when she walks away, they both burst into giddy giggles.

Their pizza and drinks arrive not too long after that, and they eat in silence, sharing shy smiles over their food. Both boys take their wallet to pay at the end, but Harry scolds Louis like an angry kitten and growls a bit when Louis tries to pay with his own credit card. Laughing, Louis holds his hands up and lets Harry take the check. All the while, Harry’s positively glowing.

They’re about to get into Harry’s Range Rover after they’ve come outside, but they stop when a feminine voice calls out, “Harry!”

Louis’ about to duck and cover--because a fan _cannot_ see them together that will just be _bad_ for both of them—but then he notices that Harry has turned towards the voice.

Harry laughs. “Essie? Zoe? Hey!”

The two girls come bounding over to Harry, enveloping him in a group hug. Louis watches on, baffled.

He feels awkward just standing there while Harry and the two petite girls catch up but soon, Harry seems to remember he’s there too.

“Lou, c’mere!”

Louis plasters a smile on his face and walks over to Harry, who casually throws an arm around him. “Louis, I’d like you to meet Essie and Zoe. We were in school together forever. E and Z, I’d like _you_ to meet Louis Tomlinson, band mate extraordinaire.”

Both girls get giggly and stick out their hands towards Louis. He shakes them, saying a soft “Hi.”

“So what’s this, then?” One of the girls asks while wiggling her eyebrows at them.

“Were you two lovebirds on a _date?_ ” The other finishes, chuckling.

“No!” Both boys sputter incredulously. Louis is glad that the street they’re on is badly lit; his face is probably flaming red.

“Suuuure,” the girls chide.

Harry huffs out a breath. “Well look who’s talking, though.” He says, almost whining like a child. “You two’ve been together for years.”

“So have youuuu,” one girl singsongs while twirling her hair with her index finger.

“Except not really,” Louis laughs.

The girls simultaneously roll their eyes.

“Anyway,” the blonde chirps. “We’ve got to get going, yeah? Hope you two had a nice date.”

“Bye!” The other one calls out as she grabs her girlfriend’s arm and tugs her away. They walk away so quickly that neither Harry nor Louis get a chance to tell them that this was _not_ a date.

“Were they _drunk?_ ” Louis asks later in the car.

Harry chuckles. “No, they’re just—weird. Love ‘em, though.”

Louis’ laugh gets caught in his throat. He wishes he could hear those worse directed his way, for once.

***

The sun is shining the next morning, and Louis feels surprisingly cheerful for once. He bites down on a piece of toast and brings his cup of tea to his mouth. “So what’re we doing today?” He asks as the cup touches his lips.

Harry looks up from his phone and smiles meekly. “Well actually, Matt was telling me that the local annual fair’s happening in the next town over. It’s mostly full of old people and middle-aged parents with really young kids so we could totally go there and not be recognized.”

Louis takes a rather large gulp of tea and raises his eyebrows. Placing his cup back down, he smirks at Harry. “Why d’you always insist on being part of the _old_ crowd, Harold.” He chuckles, “Shouldn’t you be out partying with people your own age?”

Harry smiles with fake sincerity. “Well you’re my guest and because _you’re_ so old, I decided to partake in activities that wouldn’t tire you out.” 

“Touché,” Louis grumbles. “Didn’t have to bring my _age_ into this conversation, though.”

Harry giggles. “Well _I_ think you’re like a fine wine, Lou. No need to worry.”

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes his chair away from the table. “Right then,” he announces. “Let’s get ready and head to that fair, yeah?”

Harry locks his phone and leans back into his chair. “I’ll meet you back down here in fifteen.”

Louis salutes him and makes his way upstairs and into the guest bedroom.

As he looks through his bag he can’t help but notice the pounding of his heart in the silence of the room. He really does have no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

***

The Top40 plays in the car as the two boys drive down to the fair. It’s a fairly short ride, only half an hour long compared to the three hour trip Louis had to take to get up to Holmes Chapel, and Louis spends the entirety of it looking out at the greenery that passes by them.

Tickets aren’t that expensive, and apparently the proceeds from most of the fair stands goes to getting the Town Hall fixed up, so Harry and Louis both make small anonymous donations at the ticket stand. The old lady working there is filled with so much gratitude that she _insists_ on giving Harry and Louis extra tokens (about fifty each, or so it seems) to spend that the day.

They end up thanking her profusely and rushing off into the gaggle of people before she can offer them any more tokens.

“I love old ladies,” Harry says when they finally stop at the ring toss.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows that, Harry.”

Harry swats at Louis’ arm. “Not like that, you arse. I just meant, like. They’re so sweet, y’know? Even after they’ve seen everything that this world is capable of doing.”

Louis bites his lip and studies Harry’s face. The cold wind that has been biting at his cheeks had caused them to turn a light pink color, making Harry look flushed. He actually looks quite adorable in his oversized jumper, Louis thinks. Out loud, he says, “You’re like that too, though. Well, kind of. Most of the time you don’t let those crazy people out there get you down.”

Harry smiles sadly, moving forward as it’s now his turn to play. He hands the man five tokens and he is giving five rings in return. “Well,” Harry says, standing alert and ready to throw the blue ring. “I suppose it does look like that on the outside, doesn’t it?”

Louis’ brow furrows. He watches the way Harry’s tongue pokes out at the edge of his mouth in concentration. The action is adorable but Louis can’t even smile, still hung up on what Harry just said.

Harry doesn’t win a prize because, to be frank, his hand-eye coordination kind of sucks. And when Harry’s done playing and he asks Louis if he’d like to go next, Louis just shakes his head and motions for Harry to follow him.

They walk around the fair for a little bit, finding another game to participate in. Occasionally, people will give them questioning looks, probably recognizing them _vaguely_ but not quite. They disregard the stares, though. Instead, they make their way over to what looks like a track of some sort since there aren’t that many people there. Louis thinks it’s a good place to talk.

“What did you mean, earlier? When you said something about it seeming like you don’t care on the outside?”

“Oh,” Harry says. Then, “I dunno. I suppose I try not to show how much the shit I get affects me, yeah? I try to be strong.”

Louis frowns. “You don’t deserve the half the shit you get, love. You’re too good.”

Harry shrugs, looking down at his shoes. “D’you want some lemonade?” he finally asks.

“Nah,” Louis says, peering out at the track. “What’s going to happen here?”

Harry shrugs. “No idea, to be honest. D’you wanna watch?”

“Yeah. Now I’m curious,” Louis chuckles.

“Is that a sheep?” Harry asks, gaping.

“Oh my god,” Louis mumbles. “It is.”

Both boys stand and watch the track in horror as eight different sheep are brought out. They’re all different sizes; some are fat, others are big, others are small. They’ve all got fluffy white coats of wool surrounding their bodies, and some have more wool on them than others.

“What the fuck is happening,” Louis says, shell-shocked. Before Harry can choke out a reply, a fat, balding man walks out onto the field with a megaphone.

“Welcome to the sixth annual sheep contest!” The man bellows.

Everyone claps. Some people even whistle.

“Since when was the fair in Hicksville, Hazza?” Louis laughs.

“I didn’t even know about this!” Harry exclaims whilst clapping his hands politely.

The man reads out some rules and introduces each sheep. They all have a name, much to Louis’ chagrin. He can’t help but laugh throughout the entire introduction. Harry just looks down at him fondly.

“My money’s on Milky,” whispers Harry as he points to a plump sheep with a fuzzy wool coat that shines like the snow in the bright, morning sun.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Okay, nice try. I _know_ that Donald is gonna win,” he says, pointing to a short and stubby sheep that’s wobbling on its legs.

“I bet you five quid that Milky wins,” Harry says, sounding extremely childish and only a little smug.

Louis sticks out his hand. “Fine. _You’re_ gonna have to give me five quid when _Donald_ over here wins.” Then, after Harry shakes his hand, he turns back over to face the track and cups his hands around his mouth. “Go Donald!”

Harry throws his head back and cackles with delight. “In your dreams, Tomlinson. Let’s go Milky, woohoo!”

The two keep cheering obnoxiously and the fair-goers surprisingly don’t give them any hate. Most of them seem to be getting more amusement from listening to Harry and Louis’ outbursts than from the sheep contest itself.

The boys keep standing off to the side, laughing at each other’s comments and the stupidity of the contest overall. They’re out of breath by the time the contest is over. A sheep called Fluffy ends up winning.

“This was rigged,” Louis says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, Hazza. We’ve got _better_ things to than watch a stupid _rigged_ contest, now don’t we?”

Harry giggles and hooks his arms through Louis’. They walk away with their heads held high and once they’re not even five feet away, both boys burst into a bout of giggles again.

“Oh god,” Louis says, wiping a tear from his eye.

“That was amazing,” Harry says between his laughs.

“Mmm, now I’m hungry,” Louis says once they’re standing in front of a hot dog stand.

“Shall we?” Harry asks.

“Yes _pleeeeease,_ ” Louis sighs.

They each get a hot dog and a plate of French fries to share. There’s a small bench underneath a tree off to the side so they take a seat to eat.

Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder after he’s finished his hot dog. He pushes some chips into his mouth lazily as he listening to Harry murmur the lyrics to some Ed Sheeran song under his breath.

He’s actually quite happy at how far they’ve come. The short amount of time they’ve spent together this week has actually allowed them to get used to each other again. Now, everything feels easy between them. It’s a nice feeling, Louis notes.

“Harry? Louis?” Some asks, a few steps away.

Louis gets up suddenly, sitting up straight and turning, like Harry, towards the sound of the voice.

It’s one of the girls from the other night.

“Hey Essie,” Harry says nonchalantly. “What’re you doing here?”

“There’s food,” Essie says by means of explanation. “What about you guys? Why’re you at the town fair?”

“We were bored,” Louis offers, shrugging. “The sheep contest was quite entertaining, actually.”

“Oh my god,” Essie laughs. “Were _you_ the two idiots that were causing a quote unquote ruckus!?”

“How did you manage to hear about that?” Harry laughs.

Essie shrugs. “Some old ladies were talkin’. You know how they can be.”

“Total gossips,” Louis supplies, poking Harry in the side.

“Hey, so,” Essie begins abruptly. “A bunch of us are going to the movies. Do you two wanna come with?”

Harry looks down at Louis, who just shrugs back at him.

“Erm, sure,” Harry says. “That alright?” he whispers privately to Louis.

“’Course it is,” Louis whispers back.

“C’mon then,” Essie squeals. She grabs each boy with an arm and drags them over to a sweet stall where a bunch of people are standing.

As soon as those people see Harry and Louis, they’re rushing over. Each of them crushes Harry with hugs, and then they introduce themselves to Louis. Both boys grin back at them and start up conversations with a couple people. Then, when they get to the car park, Essie tells them, “Well we were gonna go back to HC and catch a film at the Silver Theatre. That cool?”

Harry and Louis look at each other and nod. “Yeah,” they both chorus.

Louis notices that he and Harry are getting a couple of suspicious looks from some of the people in the group, but it doesn’t affect either of them anymore. They’re used to it, after all.

The two climb into Harry’s Range Rover and start following the three cars in front of them that hold the rest of their group.

“You sure you’re fine with this?” Harry asks nervously.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Stop worrying, you bum. Of course I’m fine with this.”

Harry snorts and doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride.

When they get to the theater, the group unanimously decides that they’d like to see _Rush._ They buy snacks and drinks and then head into the theater together, scattering around the room as no one else seemed to be coming to the showing that night.

Harry and Louis end up sitting together in the back. Louis lifts the arms rest from between them so he can sit closer to Harry, an excuse of “It’s so bloody _cold_ ,” escaping his lips, almost as if he’s justifying more to _himself_ than to Harry that what he’s doing is okay.

Before Louis knows it, the movie is starting. He tries really hard to focus on the film, squinting his eyes at the screen and even taking deep breaths to calm himself down. His senses just seem to be overwhelmed though. He can’t relax, can’t focus on the movie.

All he can comprehend is that Harry is sitting so _close_ to him. All he can smell is the scent that is so positively _Harry_ and all he wants to do is be wrapped up in that scent forever.

Louis can’t believe he was scared of admitting his feelings to Harry, once upon a time. He can’t believe he was ever _dumb_ enough to let something as amazing as his love for Harry go.

He wishes he had the guts to tell Harry. He wishes he could let his fear of rejection go. All he wants is to be in Harry’s arms because he knows that is the _only_ place in this world that he wants to be. He knows that’s the _only_ place in the world where he feels at home.

He can’t take it anymore. His breath is coming out in shallow puffs and it feels like the room is caving in around him. Suddenly, he’s standing up and before he can comprehend what his body is doing, Louis is walking swiftly out of the theater’s exit, and then out the exit of the cinema.

There are tears stinging at his eyes. Louis feels so overcome with emotion and he doesn’t even know what’s happening around him.

That’s why he doesn’t know Harry has followed him into the back alley until Harry is in front of him, shaking him once, twice, three times, until he has snapped out of his trance.

He still can’t seem to breathe.

"It really sucks, you know?" Louis begins. "Being in love and like--being silent about it sucks. Because love is loud, Harry. Love is louder than every single one of our fans screaming at the top of their lungs in synchronization. And," Louis takes a shuddering breath. "I hate that I can't be vocal about my love. Because I literally love you with my entire heart. My entire being, even." Louis finally looks over at Harry, who's barely standing in the little lighting that's coming from the street lamp over in the actual street. Here in the alley, his guard is let down, Louis can make out through his blurry vision caused by the sudden onslaught of tears that Harry's chest is heaving. His expression is pained, his lip is quivering. And he keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish searching for breath when it comes up onto land; he's very obviously trying to say something but at the same times, it's like he doesn't know what exactly he's trying to say. So, instead of waiting for Harry to find his voice and continue, Louis does.  
  
"I didn't audition for the X factor to find love," he chokes out, eyes stinging. His voice is very obviously shaking, just like he knows his whole body is slightly shaking as well. "But look at this, Harry. I--I found you. And I've never felt so--so broken. Because wasn't it pointless from the beginning? How could a person as perfect as you want a troll like me?" Louis' laugh is watery.  
  
"But, Christ," Louis shoves a hand through his hair, noticing that it's a bit damp. "I just--I don't think I can keep it bottled up and longer, Harry. I love you. So fucking much. And it kills me to not say that to you every day because. Jesus, Harry," Louis sobs, fisting at his eyes in attempt to stop the tears falling from them. It doesn't work.  
  
"You deserve to hear those words every day of your life, Harry. You’re everything that is good about this one life I have and," Louis stops, clamping a hand over his mouth. It’s almost as though he's trying to shove the sob that's threatening to escape back down his throat. "I thought," he says after he drops his hands back down to his side. Louis takes a shuddering breath, willing himself to calm down a bit. His hands move so that his fingers are pushing into his eyes. He wants the tears to stop; he wants to get a grip. "I thought you should know that. That I love you."  
  
It’s quiet. There aren't any cars on the streets of Holmes Chapel this late, and there are no pedestrians in the town either, none except Harry's friends who are still probably inside the theater. And Harry? Louis thinks he was so terrified, so disturbed by what Louis said, that he left. He left Louis all alone, in this dark alley.

It’s a feeling he’s quite used to now, come to think of it.  
  
Louis sobs, unable to move his hands from his eyes for fear of what he'll see if he unveils them. He doesn't want to see darkness, and he's tired of having to only seeing what he does not want to.  
  
As the tears escape from Louis' eyes, they slip through his fingers too. That makes Louis cry a little harder because he really has _no_ say in what happens to him. His fate was predetermined, his every action already calculated. But before he can will himself to do anything further, there are hands pulling his body by the waist.  
  
Louis lets out a squeal of protest, completely unsure of what's happening to him. After a shaky few steps and some shaky deep breaths, Louis and the person who was dragging him come to a stop somewhere.  
  
Louis' broken heart picks up speed again when he feels two warm hands touching his. At first, they're gentle, but when the long fingers weave their way into Louis', they tear Louis' hands off of his eyes.  
  
Louis' breath is uneven like his heartbeat. His eyes are closed and he's doing all that he can to make sure they stay that way.  
  
"Louis," someone whispers. Louis can feel their warm breath on his face. "Love, open your beautiful eyes. Please."  
  
Louis could recognize that voice even if his ears were under water. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth and eventually, the person who's holding his hands starts rubbing circles onto Louis' palm with their thumbs.  
  
Louis sighs and licks his lips. Then, he carefully opens his eyes.  
  
The first thing he sees are a pair of green eyes staring down at him curiously.  
  
"What," Louis squeaks. Harry brings a finger to Louis' lips then, silencing him. Louis peers at him closely and notices the tear tracks on his face. He generally looks paler, almost as though he's scared.  
  
"It’s my turn to talk, Lou," Harry says, voice incredibly low. Louis can feel it in his bones; he always can.  
  
"If you can't see how much I love you in every single move I make, then. You need to open your _eyes_ Louis Tomlinson, because I love you so damn much. You’re the one that's perfect, beautiful, unattainable, and. I've wanted you since the first time you opened your mouth and that beautiful, beautiful voice came out of your little body and I. Louis," Harry pleads, eyebrows furrowed while his eyes leak fat tears. His chest is heaving. "I love you so much," Harry sobs, gripping Louis' hands tightly in his own.  
  
Louis shakes out of Harry's grip and Harry takes a shuddery, deep breath.  
  
He raises his hands so that they are on either side of Harry's face. Harry breathes out deeply when Louis' thumbs begin wiping away the wetness on his cheeks.  
  
A smile starts blooming on Harry's face until he is shyly grinning, dimples on display. The sight warms Louis' heart and he smiles a little too, eyes bright.  
  
"Wonderful Hazza," Louis whispers.  
  
"Have you noticed that we're standing in the middle of the road yet?"  Harry laughs.  
  
Louis looks around them and is shocked to see that they are, in fact, standing in the middle of the road. They’re in between the cinema and the little pizza place they had dinner at just a few nights ago.  
  
When Louis looks back at Harry, the younger lad is blushing a bit. "What’s this?" Louis asks breathlessly.  
  
"Well," Harry says sheepishly. "I want the world to see the love we share, and like. I thought we'd start by showing the little town of Holmes Chapel." He grins shyly, and the feeling Louis gets in the pit of his stomach is the same one he got when he first saw this beautiful boy smile at him.  
  
Louis' eyes well with tears of joy. "Well then, what're you waiting for? Kiss me, you fool."  
  
Harry sighs and surges forward to catch Louis' lips in his. Louis’ arms make their way to Harry’s neck, pulling him down and impossibly closer towards him. Their lips seamlessly move together, almost as though they were meant to slot together this perfectly.

Harry’s hands grip Louis’ waist, pressing into his skin with promise. A promise that tells Louis that this boy is his and probably always will be.

It’s the sweetest kiss Louis has ever had in his life, and he thinks it’s the most passionate too. When he and Harry pull apart slowly, breaths uneven and eyes shining with tears of joy, both burst into laughter.

It’s obvious to them, as Harry pulls Louis towards his Range Rover and presses him against the side of the car, that this is how it was always meant to be. As Harry kisses across Louis’ jaw and nips his neck sweetly, Louis lets out a breathy moan.

“Want you forever,” Harry whispers against Louis’ lips.

“Forever and a day,” Louis replies.

Harry stops and kisses each of Louis’ cheeks. “I think my mates are coming.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I heard a door open.”

“Okay,” Louis says. Then, he stands up on his tip-toes and shoves his tongue in Harry’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Harry whimpers, placing his hands on Louis’ arse and squeezing gently.

They continue kissing until someone clears their throat in the distance. Both boys spring apart, moving away from each other instantly.

Essie and Zoe start laughing while the other people in the group stare at Harry and Louis with shock written bright as day on their faces. Louis grins and looks at Harry who smiles down at him cheekily.

“So _that’s_ why you left!?” Zoe chuckles.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Whatever, mate. We were just leaving.”

“Without saying goodbye?” Essie pouts.

Louis clears his throat. “We’ve uh—we’ve got to get back home. Early trip back to London tomorrow, actually.”

Essie rolls her eyes and Zoe punches her girlfriend’s arm. “Good luck, guys,” Zoe says, smiling brightly.

“Yeah, you too.” Louis smiles back at them as he hops into the passenger side of the car.

Harry waves at everyone and promises to call everyone down to the bungalow the next time the two come around. They then head off towards the house, Harry driving a little faster than necessary.

They rush into the house and turn on the lights downstairs, throwing off their jackets and pushing off their shoes.

They’ve not even made it all the way upstairs before Harry’s got his hand down Louis’ pants.

***

The next morning, the two boys make breakfast slowly, sated and happy (more than they have been in what feels like forever). Well, Harry makes breakfast and Louis busies himself by making lovebites all around Harry’s skin.

They leave the house at around one in the afternoon with their hands clasped tightly between them. They stay that way through the majority of the drive back to London, since they had decided to both leave together in Louis’ Porsche. (Harry insisted that Gemma would be more than happy to drive down his Range Rover later.)

“So,” Louis says once they’ve stopped at a deserted petrol station to fill up the Porsche’s tank. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“Yes deary?” Harry asks, smug.

Louis pinches his boyfriend’s cheeks. “Would you like to move back in with me, Harry Styles?”

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat. “I—I’d love that quite a lot, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Good,” Louis grins, relieved. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Harry replies, hunching down to kiss Louis.

And they should probably be a little more careful, considering the fact that they’re standing outside kissing. Except, they’re in the middle of nowhere, and plus, even if there _were_ a risk of being caught, they wouldn’t mind the world finding out the truth about their love. No, they wouldn’t mind that at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so much for reading! you can visit me on [tumblr](http://txmlinsxn.tumblr.com/) if you'd like! :)


End file.
